


Collision Course

by patriciaselina



Category: Free!, Love Stage!! & Back Stage!!
Genre: Awkward Crush, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Crush at First Sight, First Meetings, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:25:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patriciaselina/pseuds/patriciaselina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you all right?” Rei distantly hears himself say, which comes as a surprise because his glasses are crooked and his heart is racing and this is not normally a state where Rei could be confident with speaking actual words. Not when he was moving in such an undignified manner, stumbling over his own feet and – subsequently, unbelievably – over the other man’s.</p><p>[In which Rei Ryugazaki actually, literally, bumps into Izumi Sena. The crossover fic nobody really asked for, with 1000% more fluff and (hopefully) some modicum of sense.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Collision Course

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hazhooki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazhooki/gifts).



> This week in rare pair shipping: my kouhai toasterization somehow got me to writing a crossover ship. (TAKE RESPONSIBILITY!!!) I ship too many fictional characters in too many incre(i)dible configurations, and probably should be stopped.
> 
> Also: I know Izumi's not supposed to be recognizable with his glasses on (like Clark Kent, pfft); his glasses were crooked (half-off) in the start, so yeah.

Everything else had been lost under the wig and the gown and the prerequisite _shoujo_ -esque pink bubble effect, but even from behind those oversized frames, he could still recognize those eyes.

Rei Ryugazaki is not like the rest of his teammates, or the rest of his peer group for that matter. Hence he doesn’t watch television mindlessly much, if at all.

(Or so he insists.)

– but those eyes. He had seen those eyes once, before, in that commercial. Even if it was only that one time, by now the image is so ingrained in his mind that he’s absolutely sure he could recognize them anywhere. They’re dark purple-blue and golden yellow mashed together in a gradation that shan’t have been aesthetically pleasing at all, save for the fact that they remind Rei of all the many shades of dawn and are single-handedly the most beautiful things he had ever seen.

That is even _after_ counting in the existence of the butterfly-print swimsuit that Makoto- _senpai_ had valiantly tried, and _failed_ , to have him acquire.

“Are you all right?” Rei distantly hears himself say, which comes as a surprise because his glasses are crooked and his heart is racing and this is not normally a state where Rei could be confident with speaking actual words. Not when he was moving in such an undignified manner, stumbling over his own feet and – subsequently, unbelievably – over the other man’s. “I’m really sorry for bumping into you. I–”

“It’s fine,” the other man says, his voice both familiar and _un_ familiar at once, for reasons Rei can’t dare begin to comprehend. “I wasn’t exactly looking where I was going, either. I mean, it’s just like – _ouch_!”

Alarm bells ring in Rei’s head at the exact time when he realizes that he is sixty-five kilos of mostly-muscle and most likely would not be the kind of thing people would willingly prefer to have draped over them like a sweaty clumsy blanket. “I – oh. Well, you see, I’m sorry, _really_ , here, let me help you up.”

That did not sound as awkward as Rei thinks it should be, but still: pretty damned awkward.

The embarrassed flush that blooms on the other man’s face is doing questionable things to Rei’s pulse rate, and probably should be arrested for attempted murder. “I, um, yeah. Thanks...?”

“– Rei. You could call me Rei.” Rei hears himself say, and immediately halts – didn’t he usually introduce himself with his surname first, so people would have no choice but to refer to him politely? He knows that plan obviously doesn’t work in the face of certain swim club friends (to his inner glee), but still, why is he giving that away now?

He doesn’t get the time to dwell on that, though, because the other man is – _chuckling_ , for some reason, like he was enjoying some inside joke. Like Rei being named Rei was somehow _unbelievable_. Then he takes Rei’s outstretched hand with a shy smile. “Thanks, Rei-san. I’m Izumi, by the way.”

“Izumi-san,” Rei parrots, almost lamely, as his overactive imagination reminds him that Haruka- _senpai_ might have a field day with that kind of water-like name. “Again, I’m so sorry to have bumped into you...are you _really_ all right, Izumi-san?”

“Yeah, I’m _fine_!” Izumi insists, though both his voice and smile are strained and his gait is crooked and it doesn’t take a detective to see that he’s lying.

“…you’re a bad liar, Izumi-san.”

Izumi colors beet red, as if recalling some untoward memory. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

“You are also terribly injured,” Rei says, and holy _wow_ why does his voice suddenly just decide to get softer without his permission there, that’s just _cruel_. Just because Izumi’s ankle is red and swollen and scratched-up and his eyes are faintly glimmering with tears – this should _not_ be something his subconscious deems an acceptable reason to let his guard fall.

For all he knows, Izumi could be a rabid psychopathic axe-murderer.

Or something worse.

Like a solicitor.

 _But what the hell_ , Rei can’t help but think, as some less logical part of him bows to the majesty of Izumi’s smile, _it’s_ _not like I’ve got anything better to do_.

“I won’t go so far as to call it terrible,” Izumi insists, trying to act strong though he’s got Rei’s hand in a rather impressive vice-grip, “But yeah, I’d be better off without it.”

“Let’s go find some nearby place where you can sit down.” Rei says, and, subsequently, almost gets talked out of attempting a princess carry.

Just “ _almost_ ”.

.

.

“Rei-san, how did you get to be so _strong_?” Izumi hears himself say, and very quickly covers his mouth with his hand because _oh my **god** Izumi Sena that is **not** a thing you say to people you meet off the street what on earth is wrong with you???_

This guy – Rei – must be some lost wonder of the world or miracle of the universe, though, because instead of shooting Izumi with a blank-faced disappointed look (like, say, some other guys named ‘Rei’ that Izumi just _happens_ to know), he only chuckles and smiles softly as he wraps the bandage around the weakly bleeding scratches on Izumi’s ankle. “Constant practice, I hope. I’m an athlete – I’m part of the swim club at my high school.”

 _High school???_ Seriously?? Seriously. Izumi could only _wish_ he grew up like a weed like that when he was in high school. “C’mon. There is no way, no how, that you are actually still in high school.”

“See for yourself, then,” Rei says, humming some nameless ( _adorable_ ) tune as he fishes out something from his coat pocket. It turns out to be an ID card, which he shows Izumi with a smug smile. _Iwatobi High School, second year, Rei Ryugazaki._

“Now that’s just _cruel_.” Izumi huffs and cradles his face in both his hands, looking down at the younger man. Rei looks away after silently deeming him too adorable to maintain eye contact with. “So – what brings you to Tokyo? Iwatobi’s quite far from here.”

“If you factor in the efficiency of Japanese railroads, I wouldn’t say I live far from here, not exactly.” Rei says, pushing up his glasses, Izumi finding him oddly… _familiar_ , for some reason. “But I do have an appointment with a friend – we’re going to buy new swimsuits. They’ve been held up, though, so I’ve just been walking aimlessly these past few minutes.” A look of barely-concealed guilt flashes through his face. “ _Too_ aimlessly, in fact; if only I could’ve been less negligent, I would have not injured you so, Izumi-san.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s fine. Worse things have happened.” Like that goddamned commercial. Or Rei Sagara badmouthing his manga. Or the hypothetical reality where Izumi Sena bumped into cold hard cement and _not_ manga-love-interest worthy high school student Rei Ryugazaki. “And like I keep telling you, it looks worse than it feels, now.”

“Must be all the blood.” Rei murmurs, worriedly, with such a _soft_ look in his eyes that Izumi feels, if he doesn’t get careful, he’d totally melt into a puddle of goo all over this park bench. He doesn’t think that Rei would like that.

“ – _So!_ ” Izumi blurts out, in a mad rush to get that _look_ out of that guy’s eyes, “Uhm. You’re part of a swim club? You guys participate in tournaments, then?”

“Yes, we do. Although…last year, we were not able to qualify,” Rei replies, some kind of incomprehensible faraway look forming on his face, before he quickly covers it up with a determined smile. “This year, we shall make it all the way to nationals, for sure!”

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Izumi says, and makes a mental note to see if there was anything that could be looked up about Iwatobi’s swim club, later.

Not just because he’s kind of interested in what Rei would look like in a swimsuit.

Okay _maybe_ he just was kind of interested.

For _reasons_.

 _Seriously_.

“Enough about me, however.” Rei says, tucking in the ends of the bandage with some kind of clip, and packing up his own first aid kit. The bag’s got purple butterfly print and should not be something that fits him at all, but somehow it is. “What about you, Izumi-san? I can’t even make a reasonable guess at your age – you look so _young_ , but you reacted to my being a high school student rather… _interestingly_ , so you might not be in high school anymore. Despite my thinking otherwise.”

Now, normally, being mistaken for a high school student would make Izumi wage war and scream aloud a lot, but coming from Rei, it almost sounds like a _compliment_ , for some reason. “Thanks. I’m in university now, though.”

“Oh! What are you taking up, if I may ask?”

“I’m gonna become a _mangaka_ ,” Izumi says, and it’s a testament to how down-and-out he feels that when he says this, it’s not with his usual bravado. It’s more resigned, than anything – sure, he’s gonna be a _mangaka_ , can’t be anything else (never _thought_ of being anything else, more like), but would anyone like the stuff he churns out, if he’s _really_ as bad as people keep saying he is?

“I think you’d become a wonderful _mangaka_ , Izumi-san.” Rei says, and Izumi can’t help but flush red from the haircurl on his head to the tips of his toes, because how can someone sound so damned _sincere_ despite not having seen Izumi’s sketches, that’s just unfair. “After all – _beauty begets beauty_.”

“…Rei-san?”

Rei catches himself, feels blood rushing to his cheeks, and thanks all the deities that he had said that last part out loud in _English_. _Oh my god, Rei, do **not** call people beautiful within a mere hour of meeting them; that would most probably be untoward of you_. “Never mind.”

.

.

After exchanging names, school names, observations on the weather, and favorite animals (Rei _does_ like butterflies, for some reason, how _cute_ ), Rei eventually engages in what sounded to be a rather… _interesting_ phone call.

“Yes, Nagisa-kun, I have arrived early, where have you and Haruka- _senpai_ and the others been?” “What the – with _mackerel_? Please just be kidding.” “But! But _why_!? Nagisa-kun, that is most definitely _not beautiful at all!!!!_ ”

“I fear I’d have to cut our conversation short now, Izumi-san.” Rei says, with a sheepish smile. “My friends are waiting for me, and I don’t think I’d like them to wait any longer – especially Nagisa-kun, who I was talking to on the phone earlier, since I fear for what horrors he may inflict on the city when left unattended.”

Izumi finds it kinda funny that one of Rei’s friends shares his mother’s name. Will the coincidences never cease. He also does _not_ – read, does _not_ – feel anything remotely like _jealousy_ upon learning of the existence of people existing who have the honor and privilege of having Rei Ryugazaki as a friend, nope, he does _not_.

 “Go on, then.”

“But would it be fine, though? I mean, it just doesn’t seem right for me to leave you here, not when you find difficulty with walking…”

“It’s fine! I’ll just walk with you, then. If you’re gonna go swimsuit shopping where I think you’ll be, then we’ll be passing by where I’m gonna go, too.”

They passed by the _manga_ shop Izumi was really going to to go, and after Rei deemed Izumi’s gait normal enough (albeit rather wobbly still), he had smiled at him – _again_ , his heart could not be expected to take this – and said, very very earnestly it made Izumi’s heart break into itty-bitty pieces, “It was nice meeting you, Izumi-san.”

Back home, many hours later, bandage changed and unsatisfyingly not wrapped by Rei Ryugazaki, Izumi can’t help but think about it, still. Everything played out exactly like a sappy _shoujo_ anime, but for some reason, Izumi can’t help but he nothing else but _happy_ about it.

It turns out that Rei had clipped back the loose end of Izumi’s bandage with a small silver pin. He probably didn’t need to, not when Izumi’s injury really wasn’t _that_ bad, but he does seem like the kind of person who’d pay attention to bitty details like that. There’s a little plastic butterfly on one end, too. Really cute.

Blue hair. Red glasses. _My name is Rei_. Heart beat stops. Purple eyes. Butterflies. Pretty smile. _It was nice meeting you_. Heart beat wins triathlon.

Iwatobi’s quite a ways away from Tokyo. _But_ , Izumi thinks, turning the other man’s pin over and over in his hands, the smallest of smiles forming on his face, _Rei might need this back._

“Let’s meet again,” Izumi Sena finds himself promising nobody in particular, not knowing that miles away, in some other bedroom, Rei Ryugazaki was thinking exactly the same thing.

.

.

Another man, another place, (almost) the same name rolling off of another Sena brother’s lips.

“Rei?”

“Yes?”

“Why do I suddenly feel the need to punch someone, _really_ hard, in the face?”

“...that’s _it_ , Shougo. I am penciling you in for anger management sessions, right now.”


End file.
